


I know  you're not around ('cause I know the sound of your heart).

by creepypaola



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, No proofreading we die like i medici, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Sort Of, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark needs oxygen and food, dont trust the summary, i saw the trailer and cried for about twelve minutes, no one can take care of themselves, someone please save him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 18:19:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16979475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creepypaola/pseuds/creepypaola
Summary: “It’s really beautiful though, isn’t it?”Steve looked at him: he knew Tony didn’t sleep too often – none of them really did, but especially him – and worked restlessly day and night, but right there, immersed in the reddish light coming from the sunset outside, he looked at peace.“Yeah,” he answered approaching him, “it really is.”Steve comes back home, but it's not how he imagined.





	I know  you're not around ('cause I know the sound of your heart).

**Author's Note:**

> Title adapted from The Sound by The 1975.

It felt wrong to come back alone. The travel back from Wakanda had been silent, no one wanted to say anything – not that anyone knew what to say, for all that mattered. There was this shared feeling, this secret fear, that saying something out loud would mean that all the events of the past few days had been real.

They had lost. There wasn’t much else to say. They had fought and fought and fought until their legs couldn’t stand anymore, until their arms felt paralyzed and set in cement. And then they had fought again.

There had been a moment, a brief instant, where it seemed like it was over.

And then all was gone again. Quite literally.

They had offered to stay and help the survivors, but Queen Ramonda, Shuri and Okoye had a son, a brother, a friend to mourn and a nation to reorganize and restore, and it wasn’t like they weren’t needed at home too.

Steve stayed awake for the whole flight back. He was tired, but not the kind of exhaustion some sleep could fix. He looked around: Natasha was slowly sewing her cuts, precise gestures too often practiced. Thor looked asleep, but Steve couldn’t swear that he was actually sleeping. Did gods even need to sleep? He didn’t know.

He had a throbbing pain on the left side of his abdomen; if he focused, he could almost hear his own heartbeat. It was weirdly fast now but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He felt numb, all he could ear were muffled sounds.

“Steve?”

 

_“Steve?” He turned around. Bucky was in front of him, his face frozen. He was looking at his hand. He stepped forward while his weapon fell to the ground and didn’t make a sound. Actually, there was no noise at all. It was like when bombs fell too close and all was bright for a few moments and your ears felt like they were exploding and everything around was pure and deafening silence ._

“Steve.” His chest felt heavy, he wasn’t breathing right and his ears were ringing.

 

_Steve was frozen in place, he wanted to move, he started to move, he tried to reach for him but it was too late and he was gone. Again._

 

“Steve!” Someone was shaking his shoulders now. He looked up, Natasha was in front of him, scanning his body with worried eyes. He put his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face. They stayed like that for a couple of seconds, no words needed, no explanation asked.

 

_“Steve?” He turned around. Bucky was in front of him._

_Natasha was right behind._

“Sorry, I-” he stuttered looking down at his palms. They were rough, they felt his, but not really _his._ The bandages had dark red spots allover, he had been bleeding through them again “I- I need to change these, sorry.”

He stood up and headed to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and started carefully unrolling the gauze. He opened faucet and put his hands under the cold water. It stung but he noticed he didn’t care too much. He stayed like that till his fingers felt numb and then reapplied the bandage. He looked up and saw himself in the mirror: he felt decades older, and looked like it too. He stared at his reflection until he couldn’t recognize it anymore and then went back to the others.

 

The next few days were overloaded with work, half of the world had been wiped out in the blink of an eye and his presence, _Captain America’s presence_ , was needed.

Whom t _he_ y really needed was someone else, though. They had started searching for Tony immediately: Bruce and Shuri worked together with Thor while Natasha sided with Pepper and Rhodey. He hadn’t talked to them since—well, he hadn’t talked to them _in a while_ and didn’t even know if they wanted to. He didn’t blame them, if it was him, he doubt he would want to either.

One night Natasha forced him to get some sleep. He was in the briefing room back at the Avengers tower, plans and maps scattered all around him, tv screens on mute but constantly on the news channel. He was still wearing his suit, the shield abandoned somewhere under the sheets of paper that covered the whole floor. She watched him for a couple of minutes leaning into the door frame until he eventually looked up from the table. “Please Steve,” she said approaching him “just for one night. Five hours, at least. I haven’t seen you with your eyes closed in weeks. If something happens, I swear I’ll call you. Please.”

He opened his mouth trying to argue but she glared at him “Do not try to argue with me, you’re going to your rooms upstairs to get some sleep and that’s the end of that.”; he immediately closed shut his lips, he knew he couldn’t win an argument against her. She accompanied him to the elevator _(“Nat, you don’t need to, I said I’m going.” “Oh I know you are, I'm just making sure.”)_ and stayed there till the doors closed, a silent thanks shared with a glance and a couple of words gone unspoken but understood nonetheless _(“You need to sleep too, Natasha” “I know, I will.”)._

Once the doors closed, he leaned against the wall and run a hand through his hair. Was this even his home anymore, after all that happened? The answer would have come easily once, but now he didn’t really know. He knew their rooms and floors had been left untouched – Natasha had told him so – but it didn’t feel the same. After the fight at the airport and in Siberia, he had fled the country and had basically left everything he owned here, except for a couple of things that he kept with him at all times. It just felt wrong now, to be here when _he_ wasn’t. Like this was some sort of sacred space he didn’t have right to be in no more.

 

_“Cmon Cap,” he called from down the entrance hallway “you’ll love this. You’ve got your own gym, spa, huge living room and a kitchen stocked with whatever you want. To be fair, I don’t even know what you super soldiers eat. Freedom and glory I guessed, but Jarvis didn’t really agree. I swear I heard him eyerolling. And he is an A.I. . He isn’t even supposed to be able to do that.”_

_He turned his head up with a cryptic expression “Jarvis, how did you do that?”_

_“Sir, I don’t know what you are referring to.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, I thought so.”_

_He paused; he was the one eyerolling now, but Steve had noticed how the sides of his mouth quirked up in a smirk. Smiling looked good on him._

_“Anyway, we are not done yet Rogers. This way you’ll find your bedroom, which, i must say, it’s probably bigger than half the apartments in New York- but you’re a big guy so i guess it’s fair. And it’s equipped with a bed that’s finally wide enough for your shoulders. How you managed to sleep in those little military cots is beyond me.”_

_Steve smiled “We didn’t sleep much.”_

_Tony turned around and blinked, his expression saddening imperceptibly. “Oh, well” he continued, a small smile rising at the corner of his lips “I guess you deserve this, then. Come on, I’ve saved the best for last.”_

_He guided him back to the elevator and pressed a button. It didn’t have any number on it, just a small glowing symbol that sort of reassembled the geometry of an arc reactor. They went up a couple of floors until the doors opened and the familiar view of Tony’s lab appeared in front of them._

_Tony snorted at Steve’s puzzled face, “Not that, Cap” he said “come this way.” They turned left down another hallway and left the lab behind their backs. “You know,” he continued, walking ahead of him “as much I love this city, it can be a bit too much from time to time. A bit too loud. A bit too bright. That’s why I brought my lab up here, it’s nice to just disconnect sometimes. And the view isn’t that bad either.”_

_They stopped in front of a closed door “Please, do the honors.”_

_Steve opened it and stepped in what it felt like literal light. A huge room was in front of him and every corner was bathed in orange light coming from the immense windows. He started walking around, heading towards the huge desk on one side. He brushed his fingertips against the dark wood, feeling the hard grain under his skin. The wall behind it was occupied by a library packed with books and dvd cases, some familiar ,some others unknown. A record player had been placed close to it, vinyl records neatly stacked on one shelf. On the other side of the room a leather sofa took up most of the space but for a small corner where a little closed had been arranged. He opened it and found inside piles of notebooks, sheets and sheets of different papers, pencils, watercolors, brushes of all sizes, tubes of paint and a stack of white canvas._

_“Your files said you used to be good at it,” the other man said quietly. He was still leaning into the door frame and hadn’t moved the whole time “I don’t know if you still do it, but I guessed it was worth the try.”_

_Tony slowly walked to the windows and rested against the glass, gently leaning his head against it. He fixed his gaze on the skyline outside, a soft expression spreading on his face. They stayed quiet for a few moments until he spoke again, quietly._

_“It’s really beautiful though, isn’t it?”_

_Steve looked at him: he knew Tony didn’t sleep too often – none of them really did, but especially him – and worked restlessly day and night, but right there, immersed in the reddish light coming from the sunset outside, he looked at peace._

_“Yeah,” he answered, approaching him, “it really is.”_

 

Steve scanned the buttons on the panel beside him looking for the old bluish glow but instead he found a new logo on it. Half a star, half an arc reactor. His heart skipped a beat, a sudden weight lowering on his chest. _When-?_  

He pressed it before he could even think about it, and found himself in front of a well known hallway. He hesitated for a moment, but before the doors closed again, he got out and headed right. The lab was dark but for a couple of lights here and there, maps were spread on every table, papers flooded the remaining surfaces, scraps of metal laying around. Some empty - and now forgotten- cups of coffee could be found pretty much everywhere. It seemed like it had all been left untouched.

Steve walked towards a familiar corner; an old sofa was laying there, a couple of covers thrown on it, books scattered on the floor beneath. He would often come here, when Tony called him to show him some new suit prototypes or to confront him about a new mission. They would talk and then he would read while Tony worked on the bench in front of him.

Not few were the times when Steve had come in to ask for something and had found the other crashed out on the sofa, sleeping in weird and almost impossible positions. He would then cover him with one of the blankets, smiling, and walk out, switching off the lights behind him.

The sofa was still there, worn out after years of use, but the same as always. He stared at it for a few moments, unsure of what to do, afraid to broke something so fragile, a sacred spell. He slowly moved towards it until his legs brushed against the leather. He sat down and leaned back, his face brushing against the comforter.

It smelled familiar. It smelled like _home_.

He closed his eyes and started breathing slowly, the buzz in his mind slowly calming.

 

He was almost asleep when the screen on the wall in front of him lighted up. He squinted at the sudden glow, a red notice had appeared.

_New incoming message._

_Location of dispatch: unknown._

_Sender: Tony Stark._

 

**Author's Note:**

> ... and we're back to our usual angst! I saw the trailer last week and still haven't recovered. Someone please go save Tony (Carol i'm looking at you). Wanted this to fit in with Old Survivors but I also have a small idea for another chapter after this one ( do not count on it tho) and it doesn't really match so we'll see if i can combine the tow (i wont).  
> Also yes, i'm still up for that 2012-ish trend where all the avengers lived in Tony's tower. Or at least, Steve does (did?).  
> As usual there's no proofreading so if you spot something, let me know!
> 
> I'm also on Twitter and Tumblr


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